Foreshadowing
by Frosteh
Summary: This is the promised sequel to 'Choices' read that first or this won't make sense. It may not make sense anyway, but never mind. Rating for mild language. CA fluff, random humour... Enjoy. [UNLIKELY TO CONTINUE.]
1. Chapter One

A LONG-AWAITED SEQUEL, LACKING A PLOT

Yes, my loyal fans, here it is. The sequel to Choices, which to my astonishment seems to be quite popular. I would like to state I only knew ONE of the reviewers in advance; all my other fans seem to be entirely innocent in their worship. I know; it's shocking isn't it?

This fic has no plot yet. I'm just running with it and waiting for a plot bunny to bite. So if it sucks, it's your fault for hassling me, okay? Good. Onwards…

DISCLAIMER

As before, not mine. I wish they were. I even dreamed they were once. Scarily. But not mine.

CHAPTER ONE

Vimes hammered on the door again, finally losing patience. Inside the room, Angua opened one eye, decided it was far too early for this and closed it again. Carrot muttered something indistinct and finally lifted his head to squint at the door.

"What time is it?"

"Night-time," she replied in a muffled voice, curling up again. The hammering continued, and the two exchanged weary glances before finally Carrot dragged himself out of bed and towards the door.

Angua went back to sleep, ignoring the quiet exchange, and enjoyed another few minutes before Carrot shut the door and said, "Mister Vimes wants to see us in his office right away. He said it was important."

"It always is," she muttered, reluctantly sitting up and stretching.

Six months on from the memorable accident that had led to amongst other things a species change, and life had settled down – more or less. Carrot had adjusted, again more or less; he never changed unless he absolutely had to, though. Not that there was much reason for him to do so; because he'd been bitten rather than born, his senses weren't as powerful as Angua's, so any situation needing a werewolf's nose was still handled by her. She'd also finally moved out of Elm Street completely; paying rent had been rather pointless considering she only ever stopped by to pick up clean clothes occasionally, so she'd taken up permanent residence in Carrot's room. Not ideal, but good enough.

Carrot was standing in the corridor now, razor in hand, staring at the bathroom door impatiently. When Angua finally emerged, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, he looked at her. "You took a long time… Something wrong?"

She shook her head distantly. "No…" she answered evasively, ducking into their room to brush her hair, leaving him to stare after her for a moment before shrugging and going to shave.

A few minutes after that they were standing in front of the overloaded desk in Vimes' office, watching blankly as he paced back and forth muttering colourful obscenities under his breath. The two exchanged glances again before watching him pacing around some more; finally it was Angua who broke the silence, seeming to come out of whatever reverie she'd been in since waking up.

"Sir, is something wrong?"

He looked up. "You could say that," he said irritably. "You remember Sybil insisting I take a holiday?"

Trying not to grin, she nodded. "Yes… You're going to Quirm, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Well, now his lordship has decided there is a problem with the running of the Watch in my absence."

Carrot looked confused. "But you told us about this weeks ago. I thought I was going to look after things."

"You were, Vimes replied, dropping heavily into his chair and closing his eyes, looking angry and tired all at once. "But now certain people have decided they don't want that." He exchanged glances with Angua; both of them could come up with a fairly lengthy list of names of people who didn't want to see Carrot with any sort of authority, and to be honest Carrot's name would be top of the list. But nobody else believed that.

"So Vetinari has chosen someone else to come in and oversee things while I'm away."

"Who, sir?"

Vimes sighed heavily. "It's going to be Rust."

The shocked silence was eventually broken by Angua's voice. "Shit."

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Well, there it is… Read, review, and reflect.

Frosteh


	2. Chapter Two

FORESHADOWING

REVIEWS

Watchman – Hey you! No problem. To answer your question, they'd been planning this for a while and made plans and stuff so the Watch all knew. And I really should have a plot, but never mind. I'll live.

The lunatic who cares – That's not much of a recommendation, hun. Go read more books. If you want to know who these people are, I suggest Guards Guards and Men at Arms… Glad you reviewed, but really?

MIKE – I know, I don't like him either. That's why I do things like this. Just wait; I'll have some fun with him before the end, I expect.

Jess Idres – I think we have our first official fangirl here! Thanks for the plushies, but you keep 'em – I already have my own, naturally. I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about it. hugs wolfies

Egleriel – Um, probably not. AU is one thing, but I do try to stay mostly in character when I can – unless it's amusing to change it. No, he won't. But other fun stuff will happen.

LottiRebel – All right, all right, be patient. I have other things on as well, you know. Two other fanfics in progress, for a start, plus coursework shudder But thanks anyway

Taliara – Glad you're still around. Helpful review, lol.

Blank Ned – Don't die! I need all my reviewers at least vaguely living!

Tinuviel3 – Thanks, I'm getting there

Ozodrac – salutes Yessir!

You'll be happy to know that I might just have a plot. Shocking, isn't it.

CHAPTER TWO

Vimes nodded bleakly at Angua. "Pretty much, yes."

There was a short silence. Finally Carrot asked, "But why?"

Vimes shrugged. "Who knows? Rust's wanted to have another go at the Watch for years and he's always hated me. For some reason of his own, Vetinari decided to indulge him. It's all perfectly legal."

"Sir, I think I've just found a problem…" That was Angua. Both Vimes and Carrot looked at her, and she said, "Full moon. Rust's not smart enough to be in on all the conspiracies; he doesn't know what I am. And nobody outside the Watch knows about Carrot, not even Vetinari. So how do we justify taking those nights off?"

Vimes seemed about to answer when he blinked. "What do you mean, Vetinari doesn't know?"

Carrot replied, "We thought you knew, sir. He doesn't spy on the Watch any more."

"Not since his last spy was found tied to the spire on the roof of the temple in Small Gods with an old teething ring tied into his mouth and both his arms broken," Angua added almost under her breath.

Vimes shrugged. "I was making a point."

"I think he listened," she replied dryly. "But that doesn't help us. What do we tell Rust?"

"Tell you what… You can both have those three days off as well as the nights. Tell him it's your holiday. He'll argue, tell you that you can't…"

"…And we'll settle for the nights as a compromise," Carrot finished. "Well done, sir."

That was the most productive thing they managed to decide, despite talking about it for three and a half hours. In the end they concluded that Vimes would go on holiday, spend some time with his wife and son and hope there was a Watch left when he got back; Carrot and Angua would spend their time ensuring that this was the case and resisting the urge to punch Rust.

The Watch turned out the next morning to wave their commander off; it wasn't necessary but they did so anyway, because it was likely to be their last glimpse of sanity for the next few weeks. Barely had the coach rattled away down the street when another arrived from the other direction, with the extremely pretentious coat of arms of the Rust family on the door; the Watch promptly scattered, cutting through the stableyard at the back and escaping on patrol with uncharacteristic eagerness.

Angua and Carrot, left outside, exchanged glances before reluctantly standing to attention and saluting as the coach door slammed open.

Rust stepped out and glared at them both disapprovingly. Angua was vaguely amused to note that he still had no idea how to treat a female Watchman; those washed-out blue eyes skipped straight past her to Carrot. "Captain."

"Welcome to the Watch, sir," Carrot replied, still at attention. "Glad to have you with us."

Angua blinked. This ought to be commemorated in some way; the first real lie Carrot had ever told. Trying not to grin, she stared straight ahead.

END OF PART TWO

There it is. Didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped; I dried up at the end. Coming in part three:

Rust Addresses his 'Men'

And some other stuff I haven't thought of yet

Frosteh


	3. Chapter Three

FORESHADOWING

REVIEWS

Watchman, I swear you're stalking me. Five minutes after uploading, you reviewed. I know it was kind of short and I apologise for that… Vimes will return at the end of the fic and he'll not be any too pleased, so watch for him.

Jess: Do you ever think of anything else? (Not that I'm one to talk… cough Moving on…) I know it's unlikely but I want Vetinari ignorant about this bit. And he does sort of like the Watch so you never know

BS MIKE: Ta very much

Ozodrac: That would depend on what exactly you think it is. Hehe.

Blank Ned: Sssh. You create scary images of a stalker-Vetinari going around peering in windows. My brain can't take it.

Egleriel: Y'know, I'm not sure what I'll do to him at the end. I know roughly how the story pans out but I don't know what to do with Ronnie yet. Don't worry, he'll pay.

Artemis-chan of Redwing: Always nice to see a new fan. Glad you like it.

I must apologise and grovel shamelessly about the lateness of this chapter. I was horribly stuck in a hole and couldn't think of any way out of it. But, thanks to Ozodrac, I see a way out of the hole. So, here it is.

CHAPTER THREE

The watchmen were gathering slowly, sneaking sidelong glances at Rust and muttering amongst themselves. Standing either side of Rust, both werewolves were trying very hard to pretend they couldn't hear what was being said; the Watch as a whole didn't like Rust very much following the fiasco with Klatch a couple of years ago, and the story of Vimes' trip back in time on the Glorious Twenty-Fifth of May had leaked out one way or another – his lordship hadn't exactly covered himself in glory on either occasion.

Carrot was trying to ignore the muttering because he clearly felt he should be trying to show respect; Angua was trying to ignore it in case she started laughing at some particularly imaginative insult. Some of them, particularly the dwarfish, was both obscene and exotic; dwarfish was almost as good a cursing language as Uberwaldean. Rust, blissfully ignorant as usual, stared at the growing ranks in disapproval. "I didn't think the rot had gone so far," he muttered.

The two exchanged glances, wondering what the hell he was on about this time. They didn't have much time to wonder about it, though, since Rust had stepped forward to the edge of the dais and clapped his hands loudly. "Listen up, you men!"

Angua muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "I could push him off…"

Carrot shook his head fractionally. She sighed. "It wouldn't hurt him very much, it's only a couple of feet high…" He just looked at her. She shook her head. "Spoilsport." Reluctantly they returned their attention to Rust, who had launched into a very long and very boring speech that sounded like it had been written by someone with access to lots of stirring revolutionary speeches and no common sense whatsoever. Apparently Rust really did believe that mere words could impress Watchmen who were not only extremely cynical (1) but had met him before.

(1)The most cynical animal on the Disc is the tortoise. Tortoises always expect the worst, mostly because it always happens to them. Policemen, however, are amongst the most cynical human beings (and dwarfs, and trolls, and…)

About ten minutes later, Rust was still being immensely fond of the sound of his own voice, and even Carrot was half-asleep on his feet, when suddenly there was an extremely loud and dramatic explosion. This wouldn't even have been worth a passing glance in Ankh-Morpork on a normal day, but it had come from the opposite direction to the Alchemist's Guild, usual source of anything which created sparks, clouds of smoke, noxious and odd-smelling gas clouds and other chemical gems known and dreaded by anyone within burning distance.

This was sufficiently interesting in itself to merit investigation, and it had the added advantage of being a very long way away from Rust; there was very nearly a pileup at the door in their eagerness to go and see what it was before Carrot imposed some sort of order and sent one shift to the scene and the others to the Watch Houses to wait for reports.

The section that were sent in the direction of a nicely ominous cloud of black smoke found themselves standing in stunned silence a few minutes later, staring at the smoking ruins of what had apparently once been a street complete with buildings. Carrot, longest serving Watchman present (2) was reminded of the incident with the dragon some years back when it had crashed and ploughed up a section of street; this looked eerily similar.

(2)Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs had been there too, but on this occasion had decided they could serve better by staying behind nice strong walls. Just as well, really.

They all stood in silence for a few minutes, staring blankly at the wreckage, before the silence was broken somewhat eloquently by one of the newer lance-constables. "What the bloody hell happened?"

What the bloody hell happened, indeed. To answer that question we need to go back a day or so, and move across the city to what was at the time a rather pleasant airy attic room. At the moment, it's more three quarters of a pleasant attic room and a rather large hole.

The cause of the hole should be introduced at this point. He is currently measuring the exact radius of the burnt patch on the only whole wall remaining, in between worried glances at the hole in question, and occasionally he glances down at a scrap of paper in one hand and mutters things like, "I wonder what went wrong?" (3)

(3)The last words of a surprisingly large number of people.

It is of course none other than Leonard of Quirm. This time he's actually managed to keep his mind on one thing long enough to finish it. And, although a lot of people on the street might beg to differ, it wasn't any sort of war machine. He really has made a flying machine.

It just can't fly all that well.


	4. Chapter Four

FORESHADOWING

REVIEWS

Ozodrac – Cheers, Ben. Now you mention it, that was Leonard's phrase… Oops. Oh well, I'm just glad I updated at all, and I'm glad you like it still.

Lunatic – You still don't know who anybody is, do you… Hehe. Have you read any more Discworld yet? If not, why not?

Mike: Yes, your name. And again, look. I'll keep writing if you keep reviewing, ok? And how's your own writing going?

Jess: Does anyone actually like Rust? He makes such a convenient villain when everyone hates him… Any more artwork for me to worship?

Artemis: Yeah… Considering they're my favourite Discworld group, I do tend to bash them a bit…

Ned: I didn't really jilt you… Well, maybe I did, but oh well. And that constable can be Edward if you want.

Not Your Average: Plushies stuffed animals. Also, that was the old Carrot. Werewolf-Carrot is a bit more interesting.

CHAPTER FOUR

Our story so far:

Carrot was hurt badly when a building fell on him out on patrol – the Alchemist's Guild's monthly explosion. He would have died but Angua bit him and turned him into a werewolf. There was a lot of angst and pain and stuff before they sorted things out; much fluff ensued, and everyone was happy. Time passed, as it generally does.

Then Vimes did a very stupid thing and let Lady Sybil talk him into a holiday, and for reasons of his own Vetinari put Rust in charge of the Watch temporarily. His Lordship was addressing his 'men' (and other things) when there was an explosion that for once WASN'T the Alchemists, or at least not the Guild, although an alchemist was involved. Leonard of Quirm, to be precise. A flying machine, one that he'd actually managed to complete, had crashed and wiped out a row of houses.

Astonishingly, given the devastation, nobody was killed. There weren't even all that many injuries, and Igor tended to those who needed it. The Lady had been smiling on the city, it seemed, because the houses belonged mainly to single men who were out at work all day.

Even so, some sort of punishment was necessary to maintain the complicated web of illusion that passed for justice in a place like Ankh-Morpork, and so many of the senior nobility of the city were circling like crows over a wolf kill. Or possibly ravens. To give them credit, most of them were attempting to get Rust back into the calm waters of sanity, but his Lordship had never forgiven Vetinari for humiliating him over the war with Klatch or for putting Vimes in charge in Borogravia. He'd taken charge now and it was proving to be harder than it was worth to dislodge him.

Most of the Watch were either patrolling or digging through the rubble, but Angua and Carrot had collared a few of the old-timers such as Fred and Nobby and followed their 'commander' to find out what was going on. Now they were watching in varying attitudes of disbelief as Rust proceeded to actually gain some support amongst the other city leaders. Finally Nobby broke the silence amongst them.

"He did jus' say the words prosecute an' Vetinari in the same sentence, didn't he."

The others nodded.

"And he was bein' serious, wasn't he."

More nods.

"We're in trouble, aren't we."

More nods, and Fred's own personal dread: "Vimesy'll go mad."

"What, again?" Angua asked somewhat cynically, still listening to Rust ranting on. "Anyway, legally it's solid. Slant's backing Rust, and if Slant's there then he thinks he'll win. The zombie's never on the losing side, and he hates Vetinari nearly as much as Rust does."

"Why?"

"Vetinari keeps costing him money."

Carrot wasn't paying attention to the commentary from the others but was watching the scene silently. Finally he said quietly, "We've been ordered to arrest the Patrician before, and nothing ever came of that."

Angua glanced at him. Fred and Nobby were arguing about lawyers now, but she kept her voice down as she replied, "Yes, but then Leshp had sunk and there were no charges. We've got a streetful of evidence of criminal damage, and word's spread that Leonard managed it from the roof spaces of the Palace."

They listened some more. The other nobles had given up; Venturi summed it up best finally by turning and saying flatly, "If you can make the charges stick, then fine, play your little games."

"And if you can't," someone added sotto voce; both werewolves recognised Gaspode's voice, "then Vetinari'll have your liver on a stick."

"Nice thought," Angua said quietly, "but this is looking bad." She paused, head on one side. "What?"

The others looked at her, puzzled. She looked back at them, grimly. "I really, really hope I didn't just hear that…" She started walking across the square towards the gathering, the others hastily following. Rust turned and smiled unpleasantly, calling for the Watch to do their duty.

Notice how nothing good ever comes of that phrase?

There followed a short period of time in which a lot happened. Most of it consisted of arguments in a variety of languages, including a heated exchange in canine about losing your job through stubbornness. At the end of it, the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork had been charged with… well, quite a lot, really. Criminal damage, albeit indirectly, causing a danger to the general public, aiding and abetting creation of a weapon and so on and so forth. Also various kidnap charges after Leonard had innocently revealed that he'd been living in Vetinari's attic for years.

Extremely reluctantly, the Watch arrested Vetinari. Under Rust's orders he was taken to the old city jail rather than the Watch House cells, and the palace guard were set around it rather than watchmen.

The four senior watchmen were despondently heading back to the Yard to tell everyone else what had happened. None of them were happy. Fred and Nobby both looked terrified, mostly wondering what would happen when Vimes got back or if Vetinari got out; Carrot was currently as close to angry as he ever got since Angua had bluntly threatened to break his arm if he even tried to refuse orders and get himself fired again. Only when he'd given in had she reminded him that he was needed to try and counterbalance Rust's insanity and ego; he wasn't happy but he'd accepted it.

Suddenly Angua lifted her head, looking thoughtful. "I may have an idea…" she said softly. Carrot glanced at her questioningly, and then looked at the other two.

Taking the hint, Fred and Nobby scurried off towards the Yard alone, and their captain looked thoughtfully at his mate. "What?"

She grinned infuriatingly. "Come on. We've got maybe two hours until moonrise."


	5. Chapter Five

FORESHADOWING

REVIEWS

Artemis: Craziness is good. As to what they do next; the next chapter was the basis for the whole story. I made up this scene, and then found a plot for it.

Ozodrac: Maybe you could wipe it from your memory? Hehe. Seriously, if you hadn't helped me I'd have been stuck; this fic now exists because of you. Thank you. :hugs:

Jess: I rock? Yay me! When're you going to update L&D, anyway? LOVE the new picture… :joins the perv club:

Ned: Ah, another regular. You guys are like my fan club. I adore you all for it, and since you asked so nicely I'll try and update soon.

CHAPTER FIVE

"I don't like this."

Angua looked at Carrot. "Well, if you think of a better plan feel free to share," she told him bluntly. "But until then, we don't have much choice."

He nodded slowly and sighed. "I know, I know…" Still not happy, he shrugged out of his shirt, moving slowly enough that by the time he was ready to change she already had and was sitting on her haunches waiting impatiently. He crouched next to her and shivered as he slid into the wolf shape; even after six months it felt strange.

She nuzzled him lightly and moved to shove the window open wider with her nose; a two story drop wouldn't hurt either of them – she'd done it before, without opening the window first – and would be easier than trying to explain to Rust where the 'dogs' had come from. The two landed lightly and trotted away in search of their resident interpreter.

"Uh uh. No way." Gaspode backed up and shook his head in refusal. "Nothin' personal, but helping you never works out well for me."

"Gaspode, we only want you to talk," Angua pointed out. "You're good at that. You don't shut up most of the time."

"I said, no."

"Please, Gaspode." That from Carrot, good cop even as a wolf. It earned him a blank stare from Gaspode and an eye roll from Angua; rolling your eyes in this shape was hard, but generally worth the effort.

"No!"

Angua sighed. "Look, Gaspode, we all know that you won't stand a chance against us if we made you help us. I don't really want to resort to that. Itchy and mangy you might be, but you're a friend."

He gave her a suspicious look. "Why do you need me? Just wait 'til daylight."

She snorted. "Yeah, and tell Rust what, exactly? No, it has to be tonight. Be fair, you know we don't ask you unless it's important."

Gaspode stared between sincere blue eyes and impatient green eyes, and unsurprisingly gave up. (Well, wouldn't you?) "Oh, all right… But you owe me. Where're we going?" he asked, trotting after the two werewolves.

They grinned at one another. "To jail."

The dog thought about this. "Oh, hell."

As they moved along, Gaspode cast sidelong glances at Angua. Finally he stopped and stared at her for a long moment through narrowed eyes. "Are you…?"

"Shut up," she ordered him tersely.

His eyes widened slightly. "He doesn't know?" he asked with a glance at Carrot, trotting along ahead obliviously.

"No," she replied shortly, "he doesn't. Nobody does, yes, except you."

"You gonna tell him?"

"Yes. When this is over."

He nodded, grinned at her. "I'll congratulate you after, then. How long?"

She gave a canine shrug. "I'm not sure. Two months at most, I'd guess. I only realised the day before yesterday."

Half an hour later the three canines were standing by a solid stone wall looking up at a barred window. "This is it…" she said in an undertone, turning and grinning at Gaspode, who returned the look flatly.

"You realise I'm gonna have to yell from down here?" he pointed out. "And that'll attract attention."

An evil smile was his answer; evil smiles are even more disturbing when they show fangs. "Who said anything about from down here?"

So it was that a few minutes later Angua was sitting against the wall on lookout duty, staring across the courtyard space outside the old Tanty where the gallows were. Carrot was standing with his flank against the wall, and Gaspode was balanced on his hind legs on the red wolf's back with his forepaws braced against the wall, trying not to swear out loud and telling himself (as he did every single time) that he would never agree to help them again.

Stupid it might look, but it worked. The current occupant of the cell was to all intents and purposes apparently engrossed in reading a slim volume which was actually titled 'The Science of Piano Making', but nonetheless looked up inquiringly when a low voice said from outside, "Your Lordship?"

The Patrician stared thoughtfully at the wall for a moment, then glanced at Wuffles. The terrier, who'd been allowed to stay with his master because nobody particularly wanted to touch him to carry him somewhere else, was staring at the window and wagging his stubby tail with a look of recognition. Finally he said guardedly, "Who are you? I'm afraid I don't recognise the voice."

"Nah, you wouldn't. I'm here on behalf of… well, they're not exactly friends of yours, but acquaintances y'might say. Wanting to know what they can do to help you if y'need it."

A pause. "Is it possible you are talking about the Watch? I cannot think of any other group of citizens who would be concerned… Or who would risk themselves speaking with me. Sir Samuel is still away… Which really only leaves Captain Carrot. Am I right?"

Angua and Carrot exchanged wry glances. She shook her head. "Should have expected he'd work it out, shouldn't we," she commented ruefully. He grinned back at her with a canine shrug, causing Gaspode to shift and growl softly from his perch before replying.

"Sort of…"

"Hmm. Well, given that you say you're here on behalf of someone… And given that there appears to be a full moon… Sergeant Angua, I presume?"

Angua shook her head again and moved closer to the window, looking up at Gaspode. "You might as well confirm it for him… he clearly knows," she said wearily with a hint of a smile in her eyes. Gaspode nodded.

"Yeah, you got it. Just your friendly neighbourhood werewolf. Anythin' we can help you with?"

Another pause. "I do have one rather pressing question… What happened to Leonard?"

Yet another pause, this one broken by a somewhat ugly snarl. Wolves couldn't swear, but dogs could, and Canine has some fairly imaginative epithets. A yip and a thud, followed by the faint sound of paws disappearing into the distance; Gaspode picked himself up and glared at Carrot's tail disappearing around a corner, exchanging glances with Angua before answering in a rather strained tone, "Uh, we're lookin' into that one…"


	6. Chapter Six

FORESHADOWING

Random disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Much to my disappointment.

REVIEWS

Ozodrac: Best reviewer, what can I say? I'm relieved you still like it. And no, Gaspode isn't really noble, but he is a lot of fun. Yes, the book was random… I was following Lacemaking Through The Ages, after all.

Jess: Don't worry; it made perfect sense to me. Yes, fluffy loved-up wolfies. And yay for your update.

Artemis: That was the idea. Glad to see that it worked.

Ned: See, most people would tell you that you should have done your maths first and then reviewed, but it would be hypocritical of me to say that.

Lunatic: Damn straight you will. I'm gonna lock you in with the entire series and won't let you out until you've read every single one.

CHAPTER SIX

Vetinari didn't react to the sounds, but when everything seemed to have settled down he inquired idly, "Has Sir Samuel been informed of the recent changes in government?"

"Not yet," the voice of the unseen interpreter replied; Gaspode was now balanced on Angua's back to get close enough to the bars that he didn't have to shout. "We – that is, they – figured he'd be upset if he found out and it could get… messy."

That was a diplomatic translation; what Angua had actually said was that Vimes would go completely off his head and probably kill someone, not to mention that Lady Sybil would probably kill whichever Watchman had been stupid enough to tell him.

"True," the Patrician allowed after a pause, a thin smile barely touching his lips. "What news in the city?"

Whilst Gaspode passed on such political developments as the Watch were aware of, Carrot was by now following Leonard's trail on the other side of the river and finding it slow going. His nose wasn't as good as Angua's, but she was better at politics than he was; frankly, even Sam Vimes Junior was likely to be better at practical politics, and he wasn't much over six months old. So she stayed behind, and he went hunting.

After the day or so that had passed, the trail was so faint he lost it several times, but he kept going and wasn't really all that surprised to find that it led towards the houses up around King's Way and Scoone Avenue where most of the nobility lived. It was inevitable that the scent ran directly to Rust's house, really, and it also showed a near-terminal lack of brains on his Lordship's part. As if they hadn't known that already.

The red wolf circled around the building a few times, avoiding the few guards asleep on their feet in various places, until he picked out voices coming from an upper window. Cautious and to be honest doomed experimentation taught him that with the best will in the world, a wolf most emphatically cannot climb a tree to look through a window. Wincing and limping slightly, somewhat thankful nobody had seen that particular incident and also grateful that wolves couldn't blush when embarrassed, he settled for standing directly under the window and straining his ears.

The first clear sounds he heard belonged to Rust. In wolf form it was quite hard to follow human conversation, so once he'd heard anything he then had to sit and puzzle it out for a while, but the discussion went like this.

Rust's voice first, low and probably meant to be threatening, although in reality it sounded like he was constipated. "Do you know what we'll do to you if you don't comply?"

Leonard answered; Carrot knew his voice from the memorable space voyage more than a year before. He sounded exactly the same as always, politely bewildered with the world around him. "No, not really… But if you could give me a few moments I'm sure I – "

He was cut off sharply by Rust, who then proceeded to describe some quite graphic tortures in loving detail. Carrot, outside, was trying very hard not to be sick. When he could focus again, he heard Leonard's reply.

"I've never really agreed with violence, you know… But I suppose, if it makes you happy. It's still better than what you are asking of me."

A pause and some faint sounds; straining, Carrot decided that someone – presumably, someone who knew a little more about the da Quirm mentality – was whispering advice in his Lordship's ear.

Rust didn't seem entirely convinced, but he kept the same menacing tone; Carrot was reasonably sure he practised sounding like that in his room at night. "All right, if that won't persuade you, I will be forced to use my most vicious form of torture. I'll confiscate your pencils and paper."

Leonard gasped in horror. "You monster!"

Back at the jail, there hadn't been all that much to say. Rust had shown no interest in running the city, seeming preoccupied; Angua's best guess was that he was planning a war. He seemed the type. Given what she'd seen in Klatch, that was possibly the target; then again, he'd also made a complete fool of himself in Borogravia in front of her and Vimes, so that was another potential target.

Gaspode dutifully repeated everything she told him. Vetinari agreed noncommittally and refused to give his opinion, which was annoying but not really surprising. Finally she asked through her canine interpreter whether his Lordship had any advice as to what the Watch should do apart from try and maintain some sort of order.

"Far be it for me to command the Watch," he replied smoothly. "I appear to be a criminal, after all, and surely therefore have no authority over any of you."

Angua swore again irritably. Gaspode replied, thankful that Vetinari couldn't understand what she'd said since it wasn't at all complimentary, "The charges against you are complete rubbish, an' you know it. Sir," he added hastily. "But Slant's on Rust's side, so it's gonna take a while to prove it, that's all. Isn't there anythin' you want from the Watch?"

After a moment Vetinari replied carefully, "If the sergeant is still out there, then please tell her that we have a mutual friend who would appreciate hearing the full story…"

There was a short pause whilst she worked this out, and then Angua grinned. Thanking him via Gaspode, she turned and trotted away, Gaspode trailing after her and whining. "Which friend? I don't understand. What did he mean?"


	7. Chapter 7

FORESHADOWING

REVIEWS

Ozodrac – I know, it was short, but I don't want to include too much at once or I'll run out of plot, frankly. Confusion is good… In some cases… I'll update as soon as I can. Promise.

Lunatic: Yes, Laura… That's nice… Hehe, I know what you meant, honest.

Jess: Thank you for soiling my mind. I now feel vaguely nauseous. :shudder: As to the other… Hadn't planned for it, but I'll see. Working on your challenge, too.

Vetinari's eyes: Oooohhhh, a new reviewer! That's always nice! And, sssh. :shifty eyes:

Ned: Hmm, I'm not sure about Rust. I know what's going to happen, but not how… :has an idea: Fun. Wait and see :wink:

o-aki-hoshi: Another new reviewer, excellent.

Watchman: You'll see. :mysterious smile:

Froggiesrcool: Wow, long review, but a great summary of the story. I don't want to spoil it by answering any questions. Thanks for reviewing Memories, too

Okay, people. I am well aware that I haven't updated since midsummer. This is because my parents bought me a laptop for my 18th in June; I promptly transferred all my files to the laptop and only then learned that it had no Internet connection. Writing this now, the date is the first of October, and I still can't access the net. So that means I couldn't upload anything. I apologise, but I couldn't do anything about it.

To try and make up for it, this chapter will have the promised surprise, a bit ahead of schedule since I'd planned it for several chapters down the line. But you guys deserve a reward for waiting for me. Enjoy.

And Thud! didn't have anywhere near enough fluff to keep me happy.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Angua growled for the fifteenth time that evening, "Gaspode, will you please shut up?"

He answered stubbornly, "Not 'til you tell me what Vetinari meant. What friend've you an' he got in common?"

"I told you, I'll tell you later. I can't do anything about it until after sunrise anyway; I'll need fingers. Now shut up and come on; we need to find Carrot."

Grumbling, the dog trailed after her, and decided to change the subject. "So you say you found out this morning?"

That earned him a glare. "You know, I believe I preferred you arguing with me."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"No, really?" She sighed and gave in. "Okay, yes, this morning. I already told you that."

"I know," he protested, "but it's a lot to take in, y'know? I mean, you bein' –"

A snarl cut him off, and when he glared at Angua she shook her head sharply to keep him silent and made a show of sniffing the air. Blinking, the dog raised his own scabby muzzle and inhaled. "What's that?"

"Another werewolf," she muttered. "Thank you, Gaspode. Thanks a lot. It'll be all over the community by sunrise."

"I didn't say anythin'," he argued. She gave him a flat stare.

"You said just enough that he checked my scent. I didn't want anyone to know for exactly this reason. They all hate me and I really, really don't have time to keep watching my back waiting for the next attempt to hurt me. Or them."

"Them?" he repeated, before catching her expression and whining apologetically. "I didn't mean to," he said softly. "I didn't know anyone was listenin'." After a moment she nodded, and he asked, "How long's there bin another werewolf here, anyway? I didn' think they dared any more."

She shrugged. "Can't have been long, or I'd have heard about it. Nothing to be done now, anyway. Come on, let's get this done; I want some sleep tonight."

Carrot met them a few minutes later and told them what he'd heard. Gaspode wasn't really contributing much to the conversation, and after a meaningful look from Angua took his leave. The two werewolves looked at each other.

"What's Rust up to?" Angua muttered, scratching an ear. "What's he trying to make Leonard do?"

"I didn't hear," he said apologetically, flicking an ear uncertainly until she shrugged and touched his fur with her nose gently. Reassured that it didn't matter, he asked, "What did Vetinari say?"

She grinned at him. "He asked me to tell a mutual friend what's happened and get her advice."

The red wolf trotted along silently beside her for a few minutes, thinking hard, and finally understanding dawned. "Margolotta."

"Yes," she agreed, eyes dancing. "It's the first time I've heard that tone of voice from Vetinari, too… Very interesting."

He looked at her. "Don't tease him about it, Angua. He won't appreciate it."

She sighed affectionately. "That's the second time today you've spoiled my fun," she told him. "Come on, let's get back to the Yard. I need to think about what I'm going to put in this letter tomorrow."

They loped along side by side through the empty streets for a few minutes before he said awkwardly, "Something's different, isn't it."

She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Yes," she agreed softly. "I didn't want to tell you until this was sorted out, but… Well, Gaspode guessed as soon as he saw me tonight, and a werewolf followed us - I don't know who - earlier. The whole undead community will know by sunrise."

He nodded slowly. "So it's dangerous, then."

"Isn't everything?" she told him wryly as the two edged carefully around the door of the Watch House. Fred was on duty at the desk; he saluted the two wolves and said carefully and clearly, "He's not due until tomorrow at nine."

Relaxing, one worry over, they darted swiftly up the stairs and Carrot shouldered the door to their room shut behind them before sitting on his haunches and looking at her expectantly. She looked back at him before dropping her eyes and moving over towards the window, avoiding the issue for a moment longer as she let herself think about it for the first time all day.

In a way she was glad to tell him tonight. As wolves it was simply easier to deal with; a wolf couldn't faint from shock, at least in her experience, and lupine vocabulary didn't allow for inane questions.

When she turned to face him, her eyes were shining and she looked happier and more relaxed than Carrot could remember seeing her in a long time. He sniffed the air again, puzzling over the new change to her scent, and something clicked. Blue eyes slowly widening, he stared at her, already knowing before she spoke.

"I'm pregnant."


	8. Author's Note

This story is unlikely to continue. I'm sorry to everyone who's been reading and reviewing all this time, but I have completely lost the desire to write. My personal life is a total wreck at the moment and I've got a lot of problems I need to sort out.

Ozodrac – No. It's nothing to do with that. It started long before that.

I don't know how long it's going to take me to get myself sorted out, but I can't see myself managing to finish this at any point. Once again, I'm sorry. I want to thank you all for reviewing faithfully.


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